


Unplanned

by milly_scott



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Larry Stylinson Is Real, Love, M/M, Miscarriage, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-14 03:58:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 17,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4549524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milly_scott/pseuds/milly_scott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The bleak white stick trembled in the sweaty hand that encased it. Two parallel pink lines marred the otherwise plain plastic, a symbol of inevitable change.<br/>This was not what Harry had asked for, nor how he had imagined his future, but everything happens for a reason, right?<br/>>>Larry Mpreg</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, your support means everything.  
> Please enjoy.  
> Disclaimer - Respect and obviously credit (for living) to the real life 'characters', Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson, and all the other 1D boys.

The bleak white stick trembled in the sweaty hand that encased it. Two parallel pink lines marred the otherwise plain plastic, a symbol of inevitable change.  
  
_No._  
  
He could not believe this was happening. He did not want this – it – to be real.  
  
_Please._  
  
His free hand came to rest on his taut mouth, warm salty tears soon spilling over his knuckles and dripping off of his quavering chin. Oxygen seemed sparse as a sob unwillingly racked his body and his breath came in uneven heaves. The cool tiles of the wall passed smoothly down his back as he sunk shakily onto the floor next to the bath, closing his eyes.  
  
_Louis, please, please stay. ___  
  
The thought of telling Lou, confessing what had become of him, sent waves of panic through Harry’s shivering body. He couldn't imagine how he would react if Louis left. Wet tears were thick on his smooth cheeks; the droplets of water progressively leaking from his tortured jade eyes. Some of the tears crept between the fingers clasped tightly around his jaw, the salty liquid wetting his lips and tongue.  
  
_Pregnant. ___  
  
The word spiralled in his brain, wreaking havoc throughout his preconceived ideas of the future. A tornado of panic, sweeping up his plans and carrying them away, leaving a demolition site in its wake. His world was splitting at the seams, every needle of hope he had thread, every stitch of progress he had made, had been snipped and sliced, spilling his bubble of established security into the wasteland of his prospects.  
  
Removing his hand from his mouth, he wrapped his arms around his knees tightly, rocking slightly as loud cries left his body. He was unable to withhold the aching sobs possessing him, carried on a swell of self-pity, hurtling in desperation towards the jagged rocks that were reality.  
The sound of the front door opening and closing announced Louis’s return home.  
  
“Hazza?”  
  
Harry tried to pull himself out of the hopelessness that held him under, thought about composing himself, but he knew he was too far gone. His desperation demanded his attention and he couldn’t think coherently.  
  
His sobs echoed around the bathroom and he heard Louis’s responsive movement towards the bottom of the stairs.  
  
“Haz? What’s wrong? Where are you? Haz!”  
  
The tears continued to flow, oblivious to Louis’s search, determined to streak Harry’s smooth face; a stark mural of his torment.  
  
The footsteps bounded up the stairs and halted outside the door.  
  
“Harry? Please, talk to me, baby. Please just tell me you’re okay.”  
  
With no response, Louis hesitantly opened the door and stepped inside.  
  
The bathroom’s despair was palpable as Louis’s eyes met the huddled, shattered figure of Harry, unrestrainedly crying next to the bath-tub, in the corner of the room.  
  
“Harry, baby, what’s going on?” Louis knelt beside the hysterical boy, pulling his shaking body onto his lap and pushing damp ringlets away from his eyes.  
  
Harry refused to make eye contact, instead turning to bury his head into Louis’s crisp white business shirt. His breath was shallow and irregular, ruled by the sobs overtaking him.  
  
“Breathe, Harry. Listen to me, breathe. You’re okay now.”  
  
Louis’s gentle tones seemed to permeate the shell of sorrow Harry was encased in, bringing warmth to his face, neck and then chest, as he was held tightly in his arms. His gasps slowly became shuddering gulps and the tears dried into stained pathways, tracking Harry’s vulnerable face.  
  
He slowly lifted his head from Louis’s shoulder and met the concerned blue eyes fixed expectantly upon him.  
  
“Lou-Louis, I’m… I’m so s-sorry” More tears escaped Harry’s sparkling eyes as he tried desperately to hold himself together.  
  
“For what, baby? I don’t understand. Please, just tell me what’s going on.”  
  
“Y-you’re going to hate me. I’m a-a freak, Lou-Louis. Please don’t leave me, I’m- I’m begging you.”  
  
“You’re scaring me, Harry. Seriously, tell me what’s happened.”  
  
Harry got shakily to his feet and wordlessly staggered to the pearly marble sink. He reached out a trembling hand and snatched the pregnancy test from the counter, clutching it tightly to his chest with his eyes clenched shut.  
  
“What is it, Haz?” Louis stood up from his position on the floor and put a hand on Harry’s shoulder, who flinched away at his touch.  
  
Harry mustered his remaining will power and slowly turned, holding out the fragile stick, eyes still firmly closed and head lowered.  
  
The stick was taken from his grasp and he heard a quick intake of breath.  
  
“Is- is this yours?” It was a tone of barely concealed alarm.  
  
A solitary tear crawled down Harry’s cheek as he nodded his downcast head.  
  
_21 and pregnant - how could this be real? ___

```


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy, my beautiful readers x

“Your-You’re joking, right, Haz?” Louis’s eyes held poorly disguised alarm mingled with blatant disbelief. 

“No.” Harry’s voice cracked, the hoarse infliction grating at the tense air around them. 

Louis sunk down in the place Harry had just vacated, placing the test on the edge of the bath and gripping his feathery hair. 

He swallowed. “But… How? How did we… How can you… I mean…” His voice tailed into silence, his grasp on his head tightening as he squeezed his eyes shut.

Harry’s slowly lowered himself to the ground, facing Louis, and drew a tremulous breath. 

“Louis, I-” he began, hands wringing nervously in his lap, eyes everywhere but the boy in front of him. “I-I didn’t want to tell you, I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want you to leave me. I’m a freak, Lou. I’m not normal. I’m different. I’ve known since I was little, I can… I can have kids. My body produces both sperm and eggs and I can carry a… a baby.”

Harry tilted his head to stare fixedly at the ceiling, his jade eyes glinting with unshed tears. He couldn’t look at Louis, not now that he knew. Not now that he realised what a freak he was. 

“It’s partly why I’m so paranoid about using protection. But I dropped my guard. I- I wasn’t careful. Louis, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. This is-it’s my fault. You don’t want this, but I can’t- I can’t change it. I’ve tried to find a way to make me normal but it’s impossible. I can’t- I can’t…”

Salty tears streamed down Harry’s face and he brought his head down into his knees.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Harry’s apologies escaped his shuddering body, a continuous stream of desperate pleas. 

A delicate hand met Harry’s hair.

“Shh, Haz, stop. Stop, baby. I don’t, and will never, think you’re a freak. Don’t say that, ever. I’m just… shocked. That’s all.”

Louis moved his hand between Harry’s knees and lifted his lowered chin, revealing Harry’s tear stained face.

“Open your eyes, baby. You’re okay. Look at me, Haz.”

Harry shook his head, keeping his eyes clenched shut. 

“Please, I love you. I don’t care that you have different insides, you’re still the same Harry. This is unexpected to say the least, but we can make it through, together. You’re not alone, Haz. I am not going anywhere. Please, baby, open those eyes.”

Slowly and reluctantly, Harry’s eyelids lost their tension, opening to reveal the tortured green orbs Louis knew so well. 

“Harry I lov-” Louis began, but was interrupted by Harry, his detached tones quiet and bitter.

“How can you even stand to look at me? I’m a fucking pregnant male, Louis. I am having a baby. I’m repugnant. I hate that this is who I am. I hate that this is what you’re with. I hate this thing inside me and I hate myself.” He wiped his tears heatedly from his face. “So don’t you dare tell me I’m normal; you have no idea what it’s is like, how it feels to be a fucking freak. I just- I need some air.”

Harry stood abruptly, moving towards the door.

“Wait, Harry, please.”

Louis rose from the tiled floor, eyes pleading with Harry to stay. 

“I’ll be back soon, I just need to clear my head.”

Harry passed a shaking hand through his hair as he moved through the sliding doorway, abandoning Louis and that brittle stick of change in the cold bathroom. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Panic tore through his mind, leaving an aching anxiety in its wake. 

He heard the front door close softly behind him as his feet met the coarse cement of the footpath. 

_I’m pregnant. ___

His heart drummed deafeningly in his ears, the thumping beat pulsing through his neck and up to his temples. His palms were slick with sweat as he pulled his hand across the back of his neck; the surface tense with unease. 

_I’m only 21 and I’m going to have a child. ___

His breath was escaping him, coming in short pants, sending a nebulous haze rushing through his thoughts and vision. Droplets of sweat prickled at his hair line, tingling with anxiety. 

_How will I leave the house? ___  
  
_How can I look after it? ___  
  
_Louis won’t stay._  
  
_Louis won’t stay._  
  
Louis won’t stay. __  
  


His head was pounding, breath barely gasps, sweat trickling, heat closing in. 

"I can’t do this."

Black ink was blotting his eyes with raven darkness, a calligraphy pen of the brand Panic scribing his world away. 

His knees buckled. 

_Nothing. ___

Ignorance is bliss.

```

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any kudos or comments would genuinely make my week. You're all the best people ever!


	3. Chapter Three

Harry’s head was throbbing, sharp pain and anxiety both viciously stabbing at his mind. 

His eyes snapped open to reveal the overcast sky above him, obscured with the typical London clouds; deep smears of grey suffocating the notorious blue, hidden out of sight. His head felt so heavy, being pressed into the coarse concrete by a pressure intangible but restrictive: panic. 

He pushed his weight into his elbows, using the little strength he had to pull himself up, and drew his knees to his chest. He gently rested his aching head on his jeans, breathing uncontrolled, attempting to regain calm. 

_I’ve got to go back. ___

His hands met his knees and he pushed himself into a somewhat unsteady standing position. It felt as though the ground beneath Harry’s feet was balanced on a point, dipping and tilting with the weight of people, cars, houses; the world, essentially. 

Stumbling slightly, he managed to turn and begin his slow progress back towards their house. His feet felt… clunky. Like they had too much traction, getting stuck and travelling blind. 

All limbs and little brain, a physical response to a destination, and a person. 

_Louis. ___

Harry leant heavily onto their front gate when he reached it, breathing ragged and focus warped. Home but disoriented.

_‘Louis,’ _his brain demanded.__

He was running down the front steps towards him.

“Louis.” He mumbled, quietly.

“Harry? Are you okay? What’s happened?”

“I want to… I want… sit.” In between his feverish pants, the words were sluggish, hard to move from the brain to the mouth. 

“Harry, I need you to breathe, okay? You need to slow down your breathing. You’re hyperventilating.”

Harry felt the constricting panic in his chest, squeezing the air from him, and couldn’t comprehend how to make it stop. Just focusing on it, thinking about the root of his anxiety, quickened, rather than slowed, his breath. His grip on the fence slackened and he felt an arm slip around his waist. 

“Shit, Harry. Can you walk with me? I’m going to take you inside, okay?” 

Harry slumped against him, his lanky arm drawn up around Louis’s shoulders, keeping him from sliding to the ground. 

“Step with me Harry. Come on, baby, let’s get inside.”

Harry’s foot crept forward, weakly dragging the rest of Harry with it. 

“Louis… I… I can’t… I can’t… breathe… can’t breathe.” His frenzied breaths prevented much talking.

“I know, baby, you’re panicking. You have to slow down, Haz.”

They moved forward another two steps. Harry’s breath was so evasive, too fast to keep up with. Each gasp sent a rush of vertigo to his head, distorting his perception of balance. 

They reached the bottom of the stairs in another three steps. Harry glanced at the towering concrete, tilting and shifting in and out of his focus, and felt a wave of nausea surge inside him. He retched onto the bottom step, all but collapsing down into the sickly pool, save Louis’s hand around his waist.

His breathing was now so rapid, it felt as though all he was taking in was the air he’d just let out. A circulation of carbon dioxide; recyclable breathing. No oxygen to waste. 

“Fuck, Harry.” Louis cursed, pulling Harry away from the vomit. “C’mere.”

Despite Louis’s smaller frame, he hoisted the frail body beside him into his arms, Harry’s head lolling backwards and his feet dangling from Louis’s forearm. 

Harry’s throat was a can, squeezed tightly until the cylindrical shape resembled an hourglass, sides meeting in the middle. No air could pass through, no air could escape. He was an inverse vacuum, all matter, no gas. He clawed weakly at his neck, heaving in nothing, breathing too fast. 

Louis lowered him onto the couch inside and crouched in front of him. Harry was panting frantically, desperately trying to breathe. 

“Stay here.”

As Louis left, Harry’s heart rate quickened. He tried to stop thinking about it but the thought clung to his feverish mind, spreading its virus of hysteria into every cell of his body.

_I’m pregnant._  
_I’m pregnant.  
I’m pregnant. ___

It was asphyxiating, the irrevocability of the thing inside him, whether it stayed or went, sealing his windpipes and smothering him in an inescapable sauna of panic. 

Louis pushed Harry into a sitting position, once again crouching in front of him. 

“Harry, breathe into this.” He handed him a paper bag, “Slowly, now.”

Harry clutched at the bag, roughly pushing it onto his mouth and breathing rapidly into it. 

“Harry, please, you’ve got to try and slow it down. For me, baby. Think of our song. Sing it in your head. C’mon, Haz, please try.”

Harry willed himself to breathe, his mind grasping weakly at the lyrics of their song.

_‘I don’t quite know.’ ___

He forced himself to focus on the words. 

_‘How to say,’_  
_‘How I feel.’  
‘Those three words…’ ___

Harry’s breath had stopped catching on the way out. 

_‘Are said too much’ ___

 

“That’s it, baby, nice and slow.” Louis pushed some hair from Harry's damp face. 

 

_‘But not enough.’ ___

 

Harry collapsed back into the sofa behind him, dropping the paper bag from his mouth and closing his eyes. While ragged, his breathing had slowed considerably. 

 

“Thanks, Lou.” He rasped, feebly.

 

```

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you yet again for reading, my lovelies! You make me one happy girl :)  
> BTW, in case you're wondering/don't recognise it, Louis and Harry's mentioned song is 'Chasing Cars' by Snow Patrol. So thanks to them for providing me with some cute fluff! It's a masterpiece of a song.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****My readers – you are amazing and beautiful. I am so grateful to have people in my life (despite not necessarily knowing you) who take the time to read my work. I love you and would like to personally thank you for your eyes, and their consent to grace my work! Thank you, thank you, thank you!! Any comments and kudos would blow my mind, but don’t feel compelled – this is for you after all. I have tried to make this a long chapter, due to my recent inactivity. Enjoy. Xx****

An invisible force gently pushed Harry forward, the protective seatbelt around him tautening in response. They had slowed to a halt at a red light, dozens of cars passing in front of them like a herd of multi-coloured wildebeest rampaging through the concrete jungle of their city.

 

“Do you think they know how to deal with men there? I mean, would they be trained to deal with pregnant guys as well as girls?” Louis’s voice was politely curious, carefully measured so as not to trigger Harry again.

 

“I’m not sure, really. When I was young my Ma told me that less than one percent of men can… you know… so I don’t know if they teach all OBs about how to deal with this sort of thing. I guess we’ll, um, find out.”

 

Louis took one hand off of the steering wheel, looking directly at the road ahead, and squeezed Harry’s knee consolingly. He glanced over, his steely blue eyes tender and concerned.

 

“We’re going to be alright, Haz. I love you, remember that.”

 

Harry stared unseeing at his fidgeting hands, running his thumb in rough circles on the inside of his opposite palm.

 

“I know.” His voice was feeble; progressively lifeless in contradiction to the growing life within.

 

Louis sighed and returned his hand to the steering wheel, following the indicative arrow on the dashboard to the left, and pulling into the surgery’s near-empty carpark.

 

“Ready?”

 

Harry glanced towards him before looking back down at his hands. He nodded.

 

The surgery’s door slid shut behind them as they moved to the reception desk, the smell of disinfectant dominating their senses.

 

“Styles.” Louis’s quiet voice was gentle in the silence of the waiting room.

 

The typical ‘please, take a seat’ and ‘thank you’ courtesies were exchanged, leaving Harry to follow Louis to the neat row of padded chairs lining the side wall.

 

Ten minutes felt like sixty as Harry fiddled anxiously with his hands, convulsively threading his fingers together, in and out.  Louis put a hand on his knee and moved his thumb gently across the purposefully torn fabric. Harry couldn’t meet his eyes, flinching away instinctively and feeling a flush of anxiety race up his neck.

 

Louis sighed and looked away, his hand abandoning Harry’s jittery knee. 

 

“I know you’re scared, Harry, and I don’t know how to make it all go away, but I’m here for you, okay? I’m right here.”

 

He just nodded in response, staring fixatedly at the pristine floor and hugging himself, as if trying to stay whole.

 

“Harry Styles?”

 

A young man, perhaps a year older than Harry, had just walked down the corridor and into the waiting room, the characteristic stethoscope hanging from his neck. He was tall and nicely built, his raven hair pushed back into a messy quiff.

 

“This way.”

 

He turned and retraced his long strides down the hall, his polished Italian Oxfords prompting echoing slaps of leather on linoleum.  He led them to a sliding door at the end of the corridor which revealed a cramped doctor’s office. A sterile, plastic coated cot was pushed against the left wall, opposite an organised white desk adorned with various coloured stationary and papers.

 

“Take a seat,” he gestured to the stiff cot, onto which Harry perched, tentatively. “My name is Doctor Malik, but you can just call me Zayn. What exactly are you here for today?”

 

Louis watched Harry’s shaking hands fiddle with the plastic seam of the bed as he looked up at Zayn.

 

“I, uh, I’m here because, well, I think that I’m, I think… I think I’m pregnant.” His deep voice cracked and he looked away, shame tainting his soft features, a blush of scarlet staining his cheeks.

 

“Oh, well, are you capable? Of having children that is.” The surprise was ill-disguised in Zayn’s voice but his small smile never faltered as he continued his examination.

 

“Yes.” Harry’s voice was low and quiet. “I’ve known I could since I was ten.”

 

“Alright then Harry, how about we have a look then? There’s no time like the present. I’ll get the ultrasound gel.”

 

Zayn moved out of the room and Harry let out a soft moan, face in his hands.

 

“Lou, I’m scared.” The whisper filled in the silent room, piercing and broken.

 

Louis moved over to Harry and lifted his head, revealing the tormented, glistening jade eyes he knew and loved.

 

“I’m right here, Haz.”

 

Harry sniffed loudly and nodded, wiping the back of his tattered sleeve across his face. His stomach wrenched with anxiety as he shifted uncomfortably and held out a shaking hand. Louis picked up his chair and placed it down next to the bed, grabbing Harry’s trembling fingers and bringing them gently to his lips.

 

Zayn walked back into the room, closing the sliding door behind him.

 

“There’s a water cooler and come cups in the first room on the left just outside this door. You need to drink a few cups of water for the ultrasound to work properly, if that’s okay.”

 

Harry nodded without a word and walked towards the door, closing it gently as he followed Zayn’s instructions and turned to the left.

 

Louis unconsciously ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily, glancing up from his lap to meet Zayn’s concerned eyes.

 

“You know, most people are happy about this sort of thing, it’s pretty rare after all. I’ve only heard of a few cases like this before, in the UK, I mean.” He crossed his legs and leant back in his rolling desk chair. “Is everything alright? I don’t mean to pry but Harry seems quite,” he paused, trying to think of the right word, “distressed.” He concluded.

 

“Um, well, it’s a shock, I guess. And, to be honest, neither of us feel very prepared to have a child. Harry has a history of anxiety, he’s grown up with it his whole life, so I know this is making it flare up. I just don’t know how we’ll do it, but I know that we can, you know?

 

“I think you’d be surprised how wonderful a new life can be. I can tell you two are responsible guys, so I’m sure you’ll be able to cope with the strain of a child. Have faith, I’ve watched so many people make it and you guys will be just as successful, I know it.” He nodded at Louis, as if making him a promise of assurance. “Does Harry take any medication for his anxiety? I just need to make sure it won’t affect the baby, if he is in fact pregnant.”

 

“No, he doesn’t, and thank you. I know that we can do-”

 

Louis was cut off by the squeaking of the sliding door as Harry slipped back into the room.

 

“Hey there Harry, feeling full?” Zayn smiled kindly and stood from his chair. “If you could just hop back up onto the bed and lay down for me, that’d be great. You can hold Louis’s hand if you want.”

 

As he pulled a rolling stool over to Harry’s bedside, Louis gripped Harry’s still-trembling hand. Pulling the lever to raise the seat’s height, Zayn unscrewed the cap of the gel and placed it gently on a side table near-by.

 

“If you could lift up your shirt? This is going to feel a little chilly, I’m afraid. The rumours are true.” He winked as he squirted the blueish substance onto Harry’s exposed stomach, a small smile playing on his attractive face.

 

Harry’s stomach seemed to retract, wanting to pull itself away from the cold that was spreading across its surface. Goosebumps spilled over his arms and legs, like water cascading down his limbs, prickling and throbbing with unease.

 

The anxious nausea swelled inside as Zayn probed over the gel, pulling a monitor close to Harry and Louis.

 

“Alright, well you’re definitely pregnant. Your baby is the little thing about the size of a raspberry in the middle there. You’re eight weeks.”

 

Harry bit his lip roughly at Zayn’s words, feeling tears burn in his eyes.

 

_Baby. Him. Pregnant._

Louis’s grasp tightened as he kissed the back of Harry’s hand, reminding him he was there.

 

Harry told himself to breathe, trying to remain calm. But, then he thought of his parents.

 

His stomach lurched into his throat.

 

He clasped a sweating hand over his mouth, eyes bulging, trying to silently communicate what was about to happen.

 

“Shit.” Zayn muttered as he dived for the bin, bringing it up to Harry and holding it steady.

 

Harry’s throat stung as the contents of his stomach emptied themselves violently into the container in front of him. He coughed, the little amount of toast he had managed this morning regurgitating itself, an acidic track carving its way up Harry’s oesophagus.

 

“Sorry,” he groaned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

 

“That’s really quite alright, Harry. Happens more often than you’d think.”

 

“You okay, Hazza?” Louis’s hand was gently caressing Harry’s sweaty hair.

 

“Mm.” Harry hummed in affirmation, throat to raw to speak at that moment. He lowered the reeking bin down onto the floor next to the bed.

 

Zayn moved away and grabbed some paper towels from a dispenser on the wall.

 

“How about we get you cleaned up?”

 

He wiped the blue gel from Harry’s churning stomach and dumped the towels in the now-full bin.

 

“I’m just going to take this out, I’ll be right back. Harry, feel free to wash up a little, there’s a sink just there.” Zayn left swiftly, taking the plastic bin with him.

 

“So…” Harry’s deep voice was low and gravelly in the silence, the acidic burn still pulsating in his throat. “I’m pregnant.” He swallowed.

 

Louis cleared his throat. “You know something, Harry? I’m going to love this baby with everything I have. We’re going to be a family and I know it’s going to be hard but we can do it, I _know_ we can.” He took Harry’s hand and looked up, eyes wet with tears and a grin plastered across his face.

 

Somehow, Harry managed a wan smile, dimples lightly carving out his soft cheeks.

 

“You’re going to be the best Dad, Lou.”

 

```

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again! <3 x


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bit of fluff for y'all :) xx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****Hello my magnificent readers. I thought I’d be extra generous and post twice in two days, as I’ve finished all my exams – thank goodness! So, I hope you enjoy this chapter, any comments or kudos would make me incredibly happy. THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME LOVELIES <3 You mean the world to me. Xx****

He pushed the heels of his hands into his tightly clenched eyes, attempting to rub away the thick coating of lethargy. He felt an odd pressure in the bridge of his nose and the back of his throat as a yawn stretched his mouth wide, his chin trembling with the strain of exhaustion. Salty water pooled in his eyes as his hands extended above his head, reaching for the ceiling above with wide spread fingers, a physical impulse in answer to his fatigue.

 

“Morning Lou,” he mumbled, pulling his feet from under the doona cover and placing them on the soft carpet flooring that filled their room.

 

Louis rolled over, grumbling, and pulled his pillow across his face as Harry walked over to the curtains.

 

“Please not the sun yet, babe. My eyes can’t deal.” Louis groaned from beneath his feather cushion.

 

“Oh, you’ll live.” Harry smirked and he pulled the cotton drapes away from each other, the fabric warm from the day’s new sun. He smiled as the light poured onto his face and closed his eyes gently, wholly still as he accepted the beaming morning’s welcoming caress.

 

“Ugh, you bastard.” Harry couldn’t help but chuckle at Louis’s words, turning around to face the bed.

 

Louis looked like a maple tree in summer; the light illuminating his honey skin as it would the vibrant leaves, his hair rustled in perfection to match the array of twigs and branches that littered a tree’s canopy in sheer harmony. The pillow was cast aside next to him and his arms were bent above his head, his stretched torso exposed and glowing in the sunlight. He was squinting his steely blue eyes at Harry, a playful frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. He poked his pink tongue out and raised his middle finger, arousing low laughter from Harry, who felt the sensation spread warmth through his chest.

 

 Harry dived from his place near the curtains onto Louis, digging his fingers into the smaller boy’s ribs and grinning mischievously.

 

“Hey!” Louis laughed, “Get off, you dick!”

 

Harry just snorted and continued his onslaught, tickling any place he could reach. Mid-snigger, his smile dropped and he felt his stomach turn.

 

“Fuck.” He cursed, jumping away from Louis and lurching down the hall beyond their room.

 

His splutters resounded around their small house and Louis quickly untangled himself from their bed covers, following Harry’s footsteps towards the bathroom. He squatted down next to Harry’s hunched body as he heaved over the toilet again, splattering the bowl with his acidic sick. Louis gently placed his hand on the top of his bare back, rubbing slow circles on the hot skin.

 

“You alright, Haz?” Louis asked, softly, pulling some sweaty curls away from Harry’s face with his other hand.

 

“Mm.” Harry confirmed, still leant over the toilet.

 

“I’ll get a washer.”

 

Harry pulled away from the frigid porcelain and leant against the wall next to him. The tiles felt pleasurably cool against his clammy back as he tilted his head against them, eyes closed in sudden fatigue. His limbs felt weighted and his shoulders sank limply; this was going to be a rough couple of months.

 

“Here you go, Haz.” Louis laid a satisfying cold cloth across his forehead and Harry let out a sigh of content.

 

“Thanks Lou,” he murmured.

 

Louis stood up and flushed the toilet, grimacing as he watched the repugnant colours swirl away.

 

“I’m going to go change, I’ll bring you some clothes in a minute, okay, baby?”

 

Harry nodded weakly and gave Louis a feeble thumbs-up. Louis’s mouth curved into a smile as he walked back to their room, opening their closet and pulling out a white t-shirt and skinnies. As he was already only in his boxers, he pulled the pants over the top and yanked the shirt over his head, the light fabric tickling the skin of his lower stomach. He then took out a khaki parker and pushed his arms through the worn sleeves; it was his favourite jacket by far. He quickly chose Harry a grey t-shirt accompanied with black skinny jeans and a grayscale flannelette, before heading back to the bathroom.

 

“Here you go, Haz.” He was pleased to see Harry up and washing his face. He dropped the clothes on the bench.

 

“I know this sounds crazy, but I’m starving.” He grinned at Louis in the mirror, picking up a towel to dry his dimpled face. “Can you cook me breaky, Boo Bear?” His voice was muffled in the folds of the towel.

 

“Sure thing, Haz.” He came up behind him, wrapping his arms around the taller boy’s middle and leaning up to kiss the back of his neck. “Anything for you.”

 

Louis chuckled as Harry hummed in pleasure, leaning back into him.

 

“Love you, Lou.”

 

“And I love you.”

 

Louis broke their embrace and moved towards the door, asking over his shoulder, “Bacon and eggs?”

 

“You know me too well.”

 

Harry returned to his reflection, gazing down at his bare stomach.

 

_How long before you show yourself, little one?_

He couldn’t help the thrill of nerves that clenched his insides, but felt a smile creep onto his face, nonetheless.

 

He grabbed the clothes Louis had brought him, pulling them on quickly as he heard the first crackles of cooking bacon.

 

_Yum._

Cravings or not, he loved bacon. He walked down the hall to the cramped kitchen, calling out to Louis as he entered the room, “Coffee, love?”

 

“Yes, _please_. It feels like five in the morning.”

 

“It’s ten, Lou.”

 

“Whatever, just make the coffee, yeah?” He winked playfully at Harry, shooing him over to where the plunger sat on the bench.

 

Harry rolled his eyes and set about making a coffee and a tea, the tea for him, obviously. He’d read in one of their new maternity books that coffee wasn’t exactly recommended for mothers-to-be, so he supposed that included him. He had decided to play it incredibly safe during the pregnancy, as Zayn had warned them that it can be a little bit trickier for men, and there was a higher chance of complications. Not much higher, but enough to put Harry off coffee for the duration of the pregnancy.

 

“Mm, Lou, that smells so bloody good,” he groaned, in ecstasy from the smell of the searing bacon.

 

“I try, my dear, I try.”

 

Harry pulled out two plates and passed them to Louis. The bacon shimmied off of the spatula as he transferred the slightly oily strips to the plates, cracking eggs into the now free pan.

 

Harry could actually feel himself salivating as he looked at the steaming bacon, barely restraining himself from walking right over and eating it with his hands.

 

“Lou-ee,” he whined, “Hurry up with the eggs.”

 

“Shut up, I’m going!” Louis pointed the spatula accusingly at Harry, “You’re the one who will appreciate the perfection of these bad boys when they’re done.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, just get a move on, Mr Masterchef.”

 

Harry couldn’t restrain a smirk as he watched Louis turn back to the pan, his cute bum wiggling to unheard music.

 

```

 

 


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****Hello my lovelies, I hope you’ve been having a lovely day. Here’s another update (the third in four days, might I add) and it’s a long one! I hope you enjoy it, it’s pretty chilled. Thank you to infinity and beyond for reading, you really don’t know how much it means to me. I would be so bloody thrilled if you commented or gave kudos, so please, please do. This chapter is dedicated to my beautiful cousin Bella, who I can honestly say is one of the people I hold dearest. Love you all!****

“Jesus, Harry, you've been sick all week. I know it’s normal to get morning sickness but this is ridiculous. It’s not even morning.”

 

Harry went to reply, mouth open and brows furrowed, but was forced to retract back to the toilet, his aching stomach muscles seizing in protest as he gagged continuously.

 

“There’s nothing left, Lou.” He groaned, arms resting on the seat of the toilet as he sagged over the bowl. Splutters echoed around the tiled bathroom and a dribble of bile dripped from his putrid mouth.

 

“Haz, I’m sorry it’s like this. It’s not fair. Just know that I’m right here, okay?” Louis sat down next to the toilet, facing Harry and stroking a soft hand through his sweat-drenched curls.

 

Harry couldn’t hold back the tear that crept down his face, trailing through the film of perspiration clinging to his flushed skin.

 

“I’ll be fine, Lou.” Mustering his willpower, he dragged on a half-hearted smile. “You know me, I bounce back like that.” He clicked his trembling fingers feebly and managed a wink.

 

Harry flushed the toilet and tremulously got to his feet, sure that _this_ time, he would not need to return to the bathroom.

 

“I’m just going to brush my teeth. See you downstairs?”

 

Louis nodded and moved out of the room, looking back at Harry with concerned eyes. He had been really ill; rushing to the toilet eight or ten times a day, for most of this week. He could barely keep water down, let alone any food, and hadn’t been getting much sleep. Louis had decided he would give Harry three days to improve naturally before he would force him to consult Zayn – but surely this would pass?

 

Consumed in his worries, he was surprised when Harry snuck up from behind and wrapped his lengthy arms around Louis’s waist, planting a lingering kiss on his neck.

 

“Boo, you smell so good.” He murmured, the warmth of his breath tingling Louis’s skin, a searing flush leaching from his Adam’s apple up to his jawline.

 

“Mm, you can talk.” Louis mumbled in reply, absorbed in Harry’s presence.

 

Harry placed another slow kiss on Louis’s soft spot, just above his collar bone, and pulled away, asking as he moved into the kitchen, “Is Niall still coming around to night?”

 

“He sure is, and he’s bringing Bella. We haven’t seen them in so long.” Louis smiled broadly as he thought about seeing the pair, still buzzing from Harry’s contact.

 

Harry and Louis had been friends with Niall since their high school days. The muso crowd wasn’t large at their school, and consequently the Music students were pretty tight-knit. But, it’s not as though it was challenging being friends with Niall, on the contrary, it’d be more difficult _not_ liking the bubbly Irishman. The only way to get under Niall’s ever-optimistic skin, was to have a go at his high-school-sweetheart, Bella. She was undeniably stunning; her short, meticulously cropped hair seemingly always perfect, her thick bangs cutting off just before her clear blue eyes. Her enthusiastic nature complemented Niall’s, and her love of food (especially slurpees) stole his heart. Niall had asked her to marry him on her nineteenth birthday and they’d been officially ‘husband and wife’ for just over a year. She was the only thing to compromise his blithe temperament, his protectiveness obvious and endearing. Quite simply, they were the ideal couple.

 

“I can’t wait to see them, it really has been forever.” Harry swallowed some water tentatively, praying he would keep it down. “Are we getting Nandos, then?”

 

“’Course,” Louis laughed, anticipating Niall’s excitement. “What else, with Nialler around?”

 

“Lou-oo,” Harry sang, clearly wanting something.

 

“What?” Louis couldn’t keep the smirk of his face as he was met with Harry’s well practiced puppy dog eyes.

 

“Can we please, please watch _Mulan_ before they come? _Please_?” He pouted, raising his eyebrows hopefully.

 

“Not again! We watched it yesterday, Haz!” Louis tried to protest, but as Harry’s face fell, he felt his resolve crumble.

 

“Oh, fine. We can watch it.” He pushed Harry towards the living room. “I’ll go heat up some popcorn, you set it up.”

 

“Love you, Lou!” Harry called behind him as he scampered off to put in the DVD.

 

“Love you too.” Louis said quietly, shaking his head at his boyfriend’s childish love of _Mulan_. It was a brilliant movie, but three times in four days? He already knew the whole script back to front.

 

The soft cracksof the popcorn mingled with the distant melody of the Disney introduction as Louis leaned back into edge of the bench, a grin crinkling the corners of his blue eyes.

 

_Perfect._

 

*

 

“Hello!” Niall’s voice sounded from outside the door, the shuffling of shoes on doormat accompanying his Irish lilt.

 

Louis twisted the cool metal knob and opened to the door to reveal Niall and Bella, both huddled under the stoop in an effort to shield themselves from the heavy rain. Niall stepped back out of the shelter and gestured for Bella to go in front of him, giving a wave to Louis.

 

“’Ello, mate! How’s it going?”

 

“Brilliant thanks, Nialler. Yourself?”

 

Niall closed the door behind them as they both followed Bella down the hall, towards the kitchen.

 

“Perfect as always, my friend. The Mrs keeps me going.” He winked as Bella glanced back over her shoulder, poking her tongue out at him.

 

“Harry!” She cried, going over to hug him. He was wiping the bench, but quickly cast aside the disinfectant spray and washer to wrap Bella in a tight embrace.

 

“I’ve missed you so much Bell!”

 

“Likewise, it’s been forever.” She pulled away and picked up the discarded cleaning products. “Here, I’ll finish this, you go say hi to Nialler.” She smiled and shooed Harry away, spray in hand.

 

“Thanks, Bell. Niall! Good to see you, man.” He hugged Niall, clapping his back enthusiastically.

 

“So what’s for dinner at the Stylinsons?” He winked at Harry, drawing back and leaning up against the couch behind him.

 

“Have a guess.”

 

“Not- Don’t tell me… Please say it’s Nandos!”

 

“Bingo,” Louis laughed, loving the excitement reflected in Niall’s eyes.

 

“Well what are we standing around here for?” He cried. “Let’s do it!”

 

Louis chuckled and looked over at Harry. “I’ll get the keys, see you out there. There’s an umbrella in the boot if we need it.”

 

Harry nodded and gestured for Niall and Bella to follow him to the car, Niall virtually bouncing in his wake.

 

Once sat in the passenger’s seat, he clicked the volume knob on the dashboard to activate the radio before turning around to talk to Bella.

 

“So how’s university going, Bell? Still loving it?”

 

“’Course! I mean, it’s hard, but it’s my passion. Couldn’t be happier.” She smiled over at Niall, who was jigging with excitement. “This guy makes it all easier.” She placed her hand on Niall’s bobbing knee, giving him a playful glare. “You’re shaking the car, love.”

 

“Oh, sorry.” Niall laughed and leant over to kiss Bella, his hand tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

 

Louis opened the car door, plonking down into the driver’s seat and ramming the keys into the ignition.

 

“Alright, ready to go?”

 

Niall pulled away from Bella, but maintained a firm grip on her hand. “YES!”

 

Constant singing rang through the car the entire drive, the _Mulan_ soundtrack prompting an impromptu quartet.

 

“ _Did they send me daughters, when I asked, for sons?”_ Harry belted, grinning at the driver in the left lane, who was looking on, somewhat bewildered.

 

“ _You’re the saddest bunch I ever met,”_ Bella continued, giggling as she threw her hand up in mock disgust.

 

“ _But you can bet before we’re through.”_ Louis joined in, tapping the steering wheel with the beat.

 

“ _Mister I’ll, make a man, out of you!”_ Niall hollered, sending the four into fits of laughter.

 

Wiping tears from his eyes, Louis pulled into a park. “We’re here!”

 

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” Niall bounded out of the car and towards the sliding doors of Nandos.

 

The scent of charcoal chicken and spices took over Harry’s senses as he passed into the restaurant.

 

_Yum._

 

They moved over to a booth in a corner of the restaurant and debated the various options the menu offered. Harry settled with mild, conscious of his recently intolerant appetite.

 

“Alright, I think I’ve got all of the orders down pat. I’ll go pay, be right back.” Louis left the table, ignoring Bella’s protests that they would pay for themselves.

 

“Don’t be silly Bell, we’ve got this. You can buy us slurpees on the way back?” Harry suggested.

 

“Okay, perfect. Thanks so much, Haz.”

 

Harry waved away her thanks, smiling broadly at the sight of Niall and Bella’s entwined hands on the table. Louis and Harry had decided they would tell the pair that they were ‘expecting’, over dinner. At the sudden reminder of their news, he felt a twist of anxiety in his stomach and a prickle of nerves at the back of his neck.

 

_What if they think I’m a freak?_

His smile slipped a fraction and he fiddled restlessly, rubbing deep circles into the back of his opposite hand with his thumb.

 

_What if they stop being friends with me?_

He felt heat climbing up from his chest, reaching just behind his ears. His breathing unconsciously sped up, eroding the calm demeanour he had had mere moments previously.

 

_Shit, calm down._

_But, what if they hate you?_

_Stop thinking like that._

_They’ll think I’m such a freak._

_They could..._

He bit down on his tongue, trying to regain his composure.

 

“You alright, Haz?” Niall asked, sudden concern lacing his voice.

 

“Yeah, for sure.” Harry forced a smile, ignoring the haste of his breath. “Just hungry.”

 

“Are you sure? You’re all flushed.”

 

“Mmhm, all good.” Harry gave a thumbs up, battling the spasms of anxiety inside.

 

“All done.” Louis sat down next to Harry, but frowned as he took in his poorly masked panic.

 

“What’s up?” He pulled apart Harry’s tightly clenched hands, gripping both tightly as he tried to make eye contact.

 

“N-nothing.” Harry’s voice wavered, utterly unconvincing. He refused to meet Louis’s gaze, glaring at the stain on his jeans.

 

Louis leant forward, ignoring Niall and Bella’s concerned looks, and whispered gently in Harry’s ear, “You’re worried about telling them, aren’t you?”

 

Harry nodded almost imperceptibly, hands shaking in Louis’s.

 

“You know they’ll love you just the same.”

 

Harry remained silent, still not meeting his eyes.

 

“Do you want me to do it?”

 

“Please.” Harry mumbled, feeling his insides writhe at the prospect of telling them.

 

Louis turned away from Harry, facing Niall and Bella’s evident confusion with a weak smile.

 

“We, uh, have some news that we want to share with you.” He cleared his throat, “Hazza and I are, well, we, we’re expecting a baby.” He laughed nervously and shuffled his feet under the table. The pair across from him gaped, evidently blindsided by the unexpected update. Louis could have counted the number of fillings in Niall’s teeth. “Harry is the one who’s actually, um, pregnant and we found out about two weeks ago. He’s two and a half months. Uh, yeah. That’s all.” He scratched the back of his neck, awkwardly.

 

“That’s… that’s all?!” Niall spluttered. “Are you messing with me? Harry, pregnant? You’re joking. That can’t happen!”

 

“He’s a guy!” Bella exclaimed, disbelief riddling her attractive features.

 

Harry’s stomach wrenched and the air around him suddenly thickened, hard to take in.

 

_In out, Harry. In out._

His palms were slick with sweat and shook violently under the table.

 

_They think you’re a freak._

“I’m not kidding, Harry’s pregnant. He’s having _my_ baby,” Louis pressed his hand to his chest, “And we’re excited. I know it’s a shock, trust me, we were more than a little surprised, but this _is_ happening _._ ”

 

Niall swallowed. He ran a hand through his ash blonde hair and looked over at Bella. An invisible exchange seemed to pass between them and they joined hands, smiling. The initial astonishment seemed to have passed.

 

“That’s brilliant, Lou. Harry, man, congratulations! You must be stoked. You’re both going to be the best parents.” Niall stood, followed by Louis, and they shook hands, grinning broadly.

 

Harry sighed deeply in relief, visibly relaxing as a smile captured his face.

 

_They’re okay about it. You’re okay._

 

“Harry, you are honestly going to be the best Dad.” Bella moved around the booth to hug him, tears shining in her eyes as she beamed with vicarious excitement.

 

“Thanks, Bell.” Harry murmured into the crook of her neck, utterly relieved and grateful that he had friends like Niall and Bella.

 

“Alright, order number 89?” The waitress looked up from the numerous plates she carried, staring in confusion at a teary-eyed girl hugging a curly haired lad, and a blonde Irishman positively bouncing around a short, laughing man.

 

“I can come back?” She asked, unsure.

 

Niall held up his hands, suddenly panic stricken. “No! Please stay!”

 

Harry chuckled at his friend, accepting his plate from the bewildered waitress with a soft smile, mouth watering in anticipation at the sight of his steaming chicken.

 

```

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****’Ello, ‘ello, ‘ello. Firstly, let me say how incredibly sorry I am for my recent inactivity. My computer lost the will to live over the holidays and has only just been repaired this week, so thank you for your patience. I feel completely disloyal and awful for keeping you waiting for so long. Sorry! I’ll try to update as often as possible in compensation. Also, thank you so much for the comments I’ve been getting - it’s so unbelievably exciting seeing a new comment notification (shoutout to IsabellaStarsAreEverywhere, GinaGina2325, errlrn (Qsdfghjklm), loulie3 and Night_shark_out)! And thank you so much for the kudos – 26 – can you believe how lucky I am? Honestly, you all give me the fuzzies. THANK YOU FOR READING, LOVE YOU TO PIECES. Xx****

Harry found the Nandos chicken to be far less enjoyable post-ingestion. In fact, he regretted the meal choice altogether, despite his initial satisfaction. The acidic scorch lacerating his throat was merciless.

 

Louis’s familiar hand rubbed comforting circles on his back, providing slight respite from the self-loathing convulsions of his stomach.

 

Anger smouldered in his aching torso as he wiped a trembling hand over his mouth and leaned away from the bowl.

 

_Why does it have to be me? Why?_

_Why do I have to be different?_

_Why couldn’t I just be normal, have a normal relationship and not be fucking pregnant?_

_Why?_

He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring Louis’s offered hand of support, and moved over to the sink.  The splashes of cool tap water struggled against the heat of his face, contradicting the rage and hurt burning dully inside him.

 

He clenched the white hand towel and forcefully wiped the water dripping from his jaw.

 

He hated this. He hated that this was who he was.

 

“Haz, you okay?” Louis touched his hand on Harry’s tense shoulder, but he flinched away.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“I’m fine.” Harry clipped, his voice as short as his patience.

 

“You’re clearly not.” Louis folded his tan arms across his chest.

 

“Can you just drop it?” Harry threw the hand towel down onto the counter and spun to face Louis, his irritable state emphasised by his raised eyebrows and blazing eyes.

 

  
Louis frowned, “Whatever.”

 

Harry pushed passed Louis and into their bedroom, grabbing some shoes from their cupboard. Louis’s footfalls announced his entrance behind Harry.

 

“I’m going out.” Harry didn’t even look back as he spoke, attention focused solely on his shoes.

 

“Where?”

 

“I don’t know, I’ll probably meet up with Niall.” He shoved on one shoe.

 

“Okay, I’ll come.”

 

“No, Louis. I just… I need some time… away, alright? I’ll be back tonight.” He pulled the laces too tight in his frustration, cursing as he reached to undo them.

 

Louis pushed off of the doorframe he was leaning against, stepping toward the cupboard. “What the fuck’s going on, Harry? Did I do something? Why are you being like this?”

 

Harry groaned, irritated, as he re-tied his laces. “I’m not being like anything, I’m just going to meet Niall, alone, okay?”

 

“Why are you pissed? What did I do? I don’t understand, Harry.”

 

“Can you just let off, Louis? For fucks sake, get off my case and stop being such a bloody prick. God, you can be so fucking annoying.” Harry stood, moving to grab his coat.

 

Louis recoiled, the tears stinging his eyes betraying his brave face, revealing his hurt and indignation.

He sniffed, willing himself to hold them back. He refused show weakness.

 

“And now you’re going to cry. Look, I’ll see you later, right? Grow a pair while I’m gone.”

 

Harry walked passed Louis, and while his stomach was writhing regret, his sudden anger overpowered his rationale. He rammed his hands into the sleeves of his black parker as he stormed down the corridor, unable to dampen the inferno of rage and injustice blazing through every particle of his body.

 

The front door slammed behind him, indicative of his current fury.

 

He knew he was being unreasonable but everything just felt so _unfair_ ; why the fuck did this happen to him? He and Louis were quite content before this, but now they had a child _,_ a fucking _child_ , on the way. He was twenty-one, he didn’t want to be a parent. He wanted to live an uninhibited life with Louis, enjoying the moment and being careless. He wanted to be able to go out and get a drink to vent his frustration and yet, he couldn’t. He wanted to stay up late, not worrying about how much sleep he was getting, or how much food he could keep down. He wanted to be normal.

 

He was losing himself to his abhorrent mutation, the constant shame that had dogged him his whole life. The reason behind his self-torment.

 

_Why can’t I be normal?_

 

Harry hadn’t noticed he was crying until the warm salty water crept over his cracked lips and dissolved on his tongue. He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the ache in his throat, and halted his aimless walking. He couldn’t have another attack. Not away from the house. Not away from Louis.

 

He slipped his phone from his back pocket and rang Niall, knowing, or hoping, his ever-joyful friend would take his mind off of his own pessimism.

 

*

 

“Jump in.” Niall leant over the passenger seat and pushed the door open for Harry, who sank into the cool leather, drained. He glanced at Harry before flicking on the indicator, pulling back out into the street. “What’s going on, Haz?”

 

Harry ignored the probe, propping his elbows on his torso and resting his face in his hands. Now that he was in the car, with Niall, he couldn’t keep the throb pounding his in his throat at bay any longer; a deep sob leaving his fragile body as warm tears leaked onto his palms.

 

“Shit, Harry. Are you alright? Is the baby okay?” Niall’s soft hand came to rest on Harry’s shuddering shoulder. He heard the _tick_ of the indicator again as the car slowly pulled to a halt on the side of the road.

 

Harry lifted his head to stare at Niall through bleary eyes.

 

“The baby? Th-the fucking baby? That’s what’s fucking wrong, Ni. B-because it’s healthy as anything and I just wish it wasn’t there.” His voice broke as the tears continued their course down his cheeks, indifferent to Harry’s internal shame.

 

“What the fuck are you talking about, Harry?” Niall’s cool blue eyes were alight with indignation. “I know this is hard for you but I thought you’d accepted it? I thought that you and Louis were going to work through it and start a happy family, together?” He fired the statements as questions, interrogating Harry and his sudden change of attitude.

 

Harry’s stomach instantly clenched tightly as the word 'family' fell from Niall’s pink lips.

 

“Don't you get it? I don’t want a family yet, Niall!” He was loud in the silence of the car. “I don’t want to be able to carry a baby. You have no idea what it’s like to know that in a few short months, your stomach will be enormously swollen with a baby _you_ are carrying. Not your girlfriend, or your wife. _You._ You don’t know what it feels like to wonder how you will possibly leave the house without being publically humiliated and judged. Not to mention, I’m not even ready for a kid! How the fucking hell will I know what to do Niall? Why did this have to happen to me? I-I can’t do this. I can’t, Niall.” Harry’s low voice cracked and his breath caught. He forced the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to steady his frenzied mind.

 

For once, there was no trace of a smile lifting Niall’s face. A determined frown tugged at his eyebrows and thinned his lips; Harry would believe him and he would be okay.

 

“Harry, you _can_ do this, and you _will_ do this. You know why? Because you don’t have a damn choice. You’re stuck with this now and you’ve only got just over six months to go. You’re going to be an amazing father, because you’re one of the most incredibly kind and instinctively big-hearted people I know. So you need to stop worrying and start coming to terms with the fact you _are_ doing this, like it or not. You have Louis, and you have me and Bella. We all know you can do this, Haz, alright?”

 

Harry slowly lifted his head from his hands. His stomach was writhing with anxiety but his mind was resolute.

 

“Okay.” He croaked.

 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

 

“Thanks, Ni.”

 

````


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ****Hello wonderful people! I’ll keep this brief – thank you so much for the hits, bookmarks, COMMENTS and kudos – YOU (yes, you specifically) have made not only my day, but my month. Your support means everything. I do this for you <3 I’ll try to keep updating as frequently as possible. Sorry this chapter is a little on the shorter side. Xx****

“Thanks, Ni.” Harry closed the car door behind him, waving as Niall pulled out of the drive. He scrunched the fabric of his jacket sleeves tightly in his hands, as his anxiety spiked.

 

_How could he have said those things to Louis?_

Shaking his head and mustering his will power, he strode up the front steps and came to a halt at the door. He hadn’t brought any keys, his hasty departure earlier had not involved stopping to collect the shiny metal tickets to his house. He raised his closed fist, choosing to ignore its tremble.

 

_Knock, Harry._

His hand remained raised, but utterly stationary. He closed his eyes and swallowed, taking a deep breath.

 

_Go on, Knock._

 

He opened his eyes to stare at the textured wood, imagining Louis behind the door.

 

_Just knock._

He couldn’t help but imagine the worst; Louis kicking him out, Louis telling him to abort the baby, and Louis leaving him, amongst the many scenarios littering his mind.

 

_Harry, do it. Knock._

 

_It’s now or never, and you know it._

He bit his lip.

He drew back his fist, ever so slightly.

He inhaled once, deeply.

His fist hit the wood, a sharp _rap_ punctuating the silence beyond his whirring mind.

 

He did it again.

 

His palms flushed hot, sweat coating the lines and crevices as he heard soft movement inside. Nausea seized him, the pressure of anxious discomfort rising from his stomach into his throat.

 

He heard the dead lock click as it was turned, and suddenly, the door was open.

 

Louis was dressed in his long pyjama pants, a grey t-shirt and an unzipped black hoodie, his arms crossed over his chest. Harry’s tongue felt as dry as a fifty year old brick, useless and moisture sapping in his half-open mouth.

 

_Speak, God damn it._

“Uh, can I…Can I come inside?” Harry asked, his tiny voice mirroring his opinion of himself at that moment. “Please?”

 

Louis’s mouth thinned and he rolled his eyes, stalking away from Harry down the hall, but mercifully leaving the door open. Harry followed his footsteps into the kitchen, choosing to remain standing in the room’s entranceway.

 

“Lou,” he began. He saw Louis’s eyebrows sky-rocket. “I mean, Louis, I’m so… I’ve… I’ve been a right prick. I don’t know how to articulate how sorry I am.  Not only was nothing I said true, but I had no right to say any of it to you. You’ve been by my side from the second we met and haven’t left even though I’m… I’m…” Harry could feel the burn of tears in his eyes as he looked up at the ceiling, “I’m pregnant. The point is, I am an absolute idiot and will do anything for your forgiveness.” He looked at Louis, his anxiety melting slightly under the warm blue gaze, “I’m so sorry, Lou.”

 

Louis sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Seeming to give in to himself, he strode over to Harry and wrapped his arms tightly around the taller, lanky frame, propping his chin on Harry’s shoulder.

 

“You’re a dick, sometimes, you know that?”

 

Harry smiled gently, a tear spilling down his cheek and onto Louis’s back.

 

“I know. Won’t happen again.”

 

“You say that _now._ ”

 

Louis pulled away and pressed his lips to Harry’s.

 

“I love you,” he murmured against the soft, moist skin.

 

“Love you too, Lou.” Harry whispered in return.

 

*

 

Louis put the leftover pasta in the microwave, closing the door and entering the required heating time before turning to Harry.

 

“Why were you pissed this morning, anyway?” He leant forward over the bench across from Harry, propping his elbows on the cool faux marble and resting his chin in his hands.

 

“I just couldn’t deal with everything, I mean, this isn’t exactly ideal. I guess I felt like it wasn’t fair that this happened to us. We had it perfect, you know? I ended up calling Niall, and he talked some sense into me. We’re going to do this, Lou, I know it.” A determined smile pulled at one side of Harry’s mouth, as he reached out to put his hand on Louis’s.

 

“I’ve been saying it from the start, Haz. We’ve got this.” Louis walked around the bench, surprising Harry by kneeling in front of his seat and raising the bottom of his shirt. “Baby, you’re Daddy and I love you very much and can’t wait to meet you.” He kissed the still flat surface, closing his eyes as he imagined the life inside.

 

A deep ache throbbed in his throat; he and Harry, together, would make it as parents. He was sure of it. He felt a gentle hand in his hair and he looked up at Harry through bleary eyes, face crumpling as he imagined his daughter or son with a head of dark curls, just like their Daddy. Louis stood up, pulling Harry close and pressing his teary face into his neck.

 

“God, I love you, Louis.”

 

Louis laughed into his shoulder, tears littering the fabric of Harry’s shirt.

 

“I love you too, Harry. And I love our baby. You’re both perfect, to me.”

 

````


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****Hello there my stupendous readers! Thank you so much for the amazing amount of hits (800+ YAY!), kudos and the beautiful comments (special mention to Rosebee). I love you all and you’ve made my month, for sure. I am so sorry I haven't updated - I've had all of my final assessment pieces for year twelve. I finished today though so I promise I will try my best to post as often as possible. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I know I enjoyed writing it! Xxx****

 “Louis! C’mere!”

 

Harry heard a clatter, presumably Louis dropping his breakfast plate into the sink, followed by the sound of sock-padded footsteps in the corridor. Louis poked his head through the half open door of the bathroom.

 

“Yes, love?”

 

“I’ve popped! You can finally see the bump! Look!” Harry gestured enthusiastically at his exposed stomach. “See?”

 

Louis rammed the door open along its sliding track and strode over to Harry, immediately placing his warm hands on the now-visible swell of Harry’s middle. He looked up into Harry’s leafy green eyes, grinning broadly. Warmth radiated from his chest, rushing to his fingers and toes and melting the top of his spinal cord. He was buzzing.

 

“That’s our bub, Haz. They’re right here, with us. It took thirteen weeks for them to show themselves, but here they are.” He stroked his thumbs along Harry’s smooth skin, his fingertips tingling with his abandoned sense of joy. “I hope they are as beautiful as you.” As he spoke, crimson heat spread across his face, drawing his smiling still wider.

 

Harry’s dimples had depth to rival darkness as he beamed in return, his cheeks lifting to meet his eyes. “Nah, I’m hoping they’re a little carbon copy of you. My very own little Louis.” He put his hands on top of Louis’s, holding them tightly to his belly. “What could be more perfect than two of you?”

 

*

 

Harry spluttered into the toilet, the acrid burn of vomit familiar in his mouth. His abdominal muscles screamed in protest as he dry heaved for the umpteenth time, nothing but bile dribbling out of his slack mouth.

 

“Harry, I’m not sure this is normal. You haven’t kept something down for almost a week.”

 

Harry nodded into the bowl, too weak to bother to reply.

 

“I think we should go see Zayn. I’m worried about you.”

 

Harry merely nodded again, lifting his arm over his lowered head to give Louis a feeble thumbs-up.

 

_Not again, please._

 

The horrible serpent of nausea coiled itself tightly around Harry’s insides, clenching and contorting his digestive tract until it was all Harry could do to breathe and silently beg for release.

_Please, no more._

He felt an involuntary surge of pressure rise from the pits of the serpent’s den right to the back of his tongue, ruthlessly squeezing his blazing stomach muscles. He coughed pathetically into the porcelain bowl, yet again nothing but trickles of stomach acid leaving his odious mouth.

 

At last, his stomach seemed somewhat settled. He turned away from the toilet, leaning back against it as he rasped, “How about we go tomorrow morning?”

 

Louis frowned in concern at Harry’s dishevelled form and held out a hand. “Deal. I’ll ring in a minute, but first let’s get you cleaned up.”

 

*

 

Harry steadied himself on the kitchen bench, head whirring and world tilting. Little black dots invaded the edges of his vision and he blinked rapidly in an attempt to dissuade them. Although he knew they were still, the walls appeared to be gyrating wildly, warping his balance and orientation. He attempted to centre himself.

 

_What was I doing? Tea. I was making tea._

He slid his hands along the bench, edging towards the kettle. He lifted it over to the sink, reaching for the tap, but the darkness tainting his vision surged and all sound dulled, his grip on the kettle slackening. It clattered into the sink loudly, and he sunk to the floor weakly, dropping his head between his knees, barely conscious to his surroundings. The world was racing around him; a giant _Gravitron_ of misconceived proportions.

 

“Harry? Where are you?” Louis sounded muffled, as if he was speaking through a thick blanket.

 

“Lou,” Harry slurred, unsure how loud his own voice was.

 

“Haz?” Louis moved around the bench, revealing Harry hunched on the tiles. “What’s happened? Are you okay? Shit.” He quickly knelt beside Harry, rubbing his curved back.

 

Harry’s vision was clearing once more as he focused on breathing deeply, making an effort to clench and unclench his fists in an attempt to bring himself to a more lucid state. His pulse was thumping rapidly in his neck.

 

“I’m… okay.” His words were drawn-out, slow and careful. “Just felt… dizzy… sat down.”

 

“Okay, well you just stay there until you’re feeling better okay? Don’t get up. I’m going to get some water and call Zayn. I’ll just be here, by the fridge, alright? You tell me straight away if you feel bad again.”

 

“Mmhm.”

 

 

*

 

 

“How often are you vomiting per day?”

 

“Between eight to ten times, sporadically, throughout the day. I don’t know whether I’m just really sensitive, but we thought it’d be safest to see you, as I’m not really keeping much food down and I felt faint earlier today, as you already know.”

 

Zayn nodded at Harry’s words, a reassuring smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

 

“Probably wise to get checked out, although I’m sure it’s something we can manage easily. From the symptoms you’ve described, I’d be inclined to say you’re suffering with severe morning sickness, or hyperemesis gravidarum. Luckily, you’ve done the smart thing and come in for an appointment, so we can treat you early on in the piece.” He rolled his chair closer to his computer, typing as he spoke. “I’m going to prescribe some vitamin supplements. It should help you maintain your nutrients at the very least. I’ll also add some nausea medication, _Maxilon_ , which will hopefully help you keep some food down. I want you to change your diet too. It’s not going to be very fun, but try to ensure you eat very bland foods, not much flavour, and eat smaller portions more frequently throughout the day. You’ll want to try and drink lots of water when you’re not feeling sick, as well. I’d recommend purchasing some electrolyte boosters from the Chemist when you fill out the prescription.” He grabbed a newly printed document from the printer tray, signing the bottom before handing it to Harry. “Here you go. If the problem continues or worsens, come back and we’ll consider IV supplements. Feel better, alright?”

 

Harry stood, shaking Zayn’s hand. “Thank you, Zayn. We’ll see you soon for our next appointment.”

 

Zayn nodded, smiling widely as he reached over to shake Louis’s hand, as well. “See you both then. Have a great week.”

 

Harry slid the door shut behind him and threaded his fingers through Louis’s. “Here’s hoping this works, or else I _will_ shank a bitch.”

 

Louis chuckled, placing a swift kiss on Harry’s right dimple and swinging their entwined hands as they left the doctor’s office.

 

“Wouldn’t put it past you.”

 

```

 

 


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****Oh my goodness, I am a terrible author. I know I’ve kept you waiting for wayyyy too long, I’m so sorry (especially to love_so_quickly - sorry about the tardiness of this update)! I know I always say this, but I really will try my best to update ASAP – I owe it to you. You are all the best for being so understanding and patient. Love you all! Have a wonderful day/night. Xx****

 

“Are you serious? No marmite?”

 

“Haz, you know what Zayn said. Very bland foods only, i.e. no marmite. Just butter for you, pumpkin.” Louis pinched Harry’s cheek over the counter, prompting a depressed scowl from Harry, his displeasure regarding the outlaw of his favourite spread evident.

 

“Don’t patronise me, Tomlinson.” Harry warned, slapping away Louis’s hand.

 

As he dramatically pulled back his hand in mock agony, the springing of the toast announced its now crisp state, calling Louis to retrieve it from its piping hot incubator.

 

“I’d never talk down to my little Hazzy.” Louis crooned, facing away from Harry as he spread butter on the crunchy bread.  You’re an adult now, aren’t you my big boy?” Louis was unable to resist the smirk pulling at his mouth, chuckling as he turned to see Harry’s sulky pout.

 

“I’m warning you, Lou. Don’t provoke me or I may get physical.”

 

Louis raised his eyebrows, barely holding back a laugh.

 

“Should I be scared?”

 

“Very.” Harry growled, trying his best not to smile at Louis’s pathetic attempt at a poker face.

 

Louis’s eyes crinkled at the corners as chuckled and spontaneously jumped up onto the bench, scooting over to Harry’s side and placing the buttered toast in front of him. He swung his legs off the edge of the counter, kicking them gently as he placed a soft kiss on the top of Harry’s curly head.

 

“Eat up, buttercup. You know I’ll never be scared of you.”

 

Giving up the act, Harry smiled up at Louis. “Thanks, Lou.”

 

“Pleasure, Styles.”

 

Louis tousled Harry’s hair and jumped off the bench, moving to grab his keys from a nearby dish.

 

“Work awaits; I’ll see you at six. Love you and enjoy your toast. Don’t forget to eat regularly in small portions and make sure you drink lots of water!”

 

“Bye, Lou-bear!” Harry called through his full mouth.

 

He heard the door slam, distantly.

 

Despite his initial complaints, the toast was damn good. Louis had always been excellent at making toast; it was a talent you had to be born with. Harry was not born with it, however, he _had_ finally mastered the art of scraping the burnt bits off with a knife.

 

Swallowing another warm bite, he was taken over by a sudden desire to talk to the baby. Harry picked up a piece of toast and held it to his slightly swollen stomach, looking down at his belly button with a goofy grin.

 

“I feel like a bit of a tosser – shit – I mean, silly-billy, but this is toast, bub.” He gestured to the bread with his free hand, “It’s great and your Pa makes the best in the world. I can’t wait to show you in person. I don’t know how they thought of toast. Did some man or woman just leave a bit of bread out in the sun too long? I’m not sure why I’m asking you this, as we both know you’re not very well going to answer. I once left half a roll on top of a dark-coloured locker in elementary school and by the end of the day it was crispy. I mean, it was horribly dry, but super crispy. Okay, well that’s enough about bread, I guess. I’m going to go now. By bubba. Speak soon.”

 

He raised the bread to his mouth and carried on eating as before, feeling quite idiotic but unmistakably warm and fuzzy. Only fourteen weeks down and he could hardly wait to meet his little bub.

 

*

 

“Hey Haz, I’m home!” Louis called from the doorway as he entered the house.

 

He heard the chime of keys, the slam of the front door and the clacking of business shoes on tiles before Louis walked into the kitchen, grinning over at Harry by the stove.

 

“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

 

Harry smirked. “Cherry tomato pasta, love.”

 

“Mm, delicious.” Louis moved up behind him, wrapping an arm around his waist and leaning his head against Harry’s exposed back. “Smells divine.”

 

Harry smiled blissfully and leaned into Louis, closing his eyes and enjoying the moment.

 

“Missed you today.” He murmured, his deep voice spreading warmth in Louis’s chest.

 

Louis hummed in agreement, the slight buzz against Harry’s back sending tingles up his spine.

“Missed you too,” he whispered.

 

He leaned in closer, tenderly pressing his lips against the nape of Harry’s neck. Louis let his tongue roam over the protruding bone at the top of Harry’s spine, unable to resist pulling the taut skin gently with his teeth.

 

Harry moaned and steadied himself with one hand on the bench, knees suddenly weak.

 

“Louis,” he breathed, voice husky.

 

Louis’s hands moved to the bottom of Harry’s sweater, fiddling with the hemming, teasing.

 

“Lou,” Harry groaned again, his deep scratchy tones sending heat rushing to Louis’s tense shoulders and down to the tips of his fingers, the muscles in his jaw clenching. His pants felt tight as his dick rapidly hardened, being utterly turned on by the aroused state he’d put Harry in.

 

“Haz,” he rasped.

 

Louis moved his hands under the rim of Harry’s sweater, sliding his hands across Harry’s bump and over his hard nipples, unable to resist bucking his hips against Harry’s jeaned ass. He continued kissing Harry’s neck, closing his eyes as he let out a moan of lust.

 

“Turn off the stove and meet me upstairs in ten,” he growled, giving Harry’s skin one last nip with his teeth and squeezing his bum before turning and walking away towards the bedroom. As he reached the stairs, he glanced over his shoulder with a smirk to see Harry leaning over the bench, panting hard.

 

*

 

“Jesus you’re good in bed, Lou.”

 

“Says you, mister sexay.” Louis winked at Harry, who was lying opposite him, and bit his lip in exaggerated desire.

 

“You’re such a wanker!” Harry laughed, slapping Louis’s chest playfully.

 

Louis grabbed Harry’s wrist and pulled him close, kissing his lips gently and threading his hand through the curls at the back of Harry’s head.

 

“You are,” he mumbled, grinning into the kiss.

 

```


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **** Yallo! Thank you so much for the views and kudos – I cannot express how much your support means to me. But, I will say that it means more than Zappos – so a hell of a lot! So things got a little steamy last time, ay? Not something I would usually write but hey, there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there? Did you guys like it? Let me know in the comments! Of course, thanks to Harry and Louis and all the other boys for being the muses for my work of fiction. I love them and I love you! Xx****

“LOUIS!”

 

An electric current of panic raced up Louis’s spine as all the muscles in his body tensed, Harry’s scream instantly dousing him in cold fear. He leapt off his chair and sprinted to their bedroom, pushing himself off of the walls in his hasty clamber.

 

“What?! What is it, Harry? What happened?” He demanded, tearing through the doorway of their room and coming to a halt at the edge of their bed.

 

Harry was laying on their unmade sheets, hands holding his stomach, eyes wide and mouth agape.

 

“What is it?” Louis pressed, alarmed with Harry’s silence

 

“It…” He began, “It moved. The baby. Just now. Louis, they moved!” His shock melted into excitement and he grinned up at Louis, buzzing.

 

Louis whooped in excitement, jumping up next to Harry on their bed and instantly placing his hands on Harry’s exposed bump.

 

“What’d it feel like, Haz? I can’t believe they moved!”

 

“I don’t know… Weird. Kind of like when you go over a little hill in the car and your stomach drops.” He beamed. “I loved it.”

 

Louis looked up from Harry’s stomach and leaned over to kiss him, smiling against his lips. He loved everything about Harry and he craved the presence of their son or daughter with an intensity akin to an itch on his back; just out of reach and vehemently persistent. He knew, even now, he would protect Harry and their child for as long as he lived.

 

Pulling away, he sighed. “I wish I could feel them but I don’t think I’ll be able to for a few more weeks. Your only four and a half months and the bub’s movements aren’t big enough to feel outside until twenty weeks.”

 

Harry raised his eyebrows, looking amusedly up at him. “Someone’s been reading up.”

 

“Only every lunch-break for the past two months.” Louis winked in return.

 

 

Harry sat up, his sweater falling to cover his stomach as he lifted his arms to drape them over Louis’s neck. He nuzzled in closely until he could feel the soft throbbing of Louis’s pulse against his cheek, calming warmth spreading through his chest.  “Don’t worry, Lou, you’ll be able to feel them in no time. I’ll be nineteen weeks on Thursday. I can’t believe how quick this is all going.”

 

Louis wrapped his arms around Harry tightly, placing a soft kiss on the top of his head.

 

“I love you, Harry.”

 

*

 

 

 

“I’m freezing, Lou. Grab me a blanket, will you?”

 

Louis walked over to the cupboard and threw a thick quilt over to Harry on the couch. He leaned against the wall and surveyed Harry with anxious eyes as he watched the jittering of his hands gripping onto the blanket.

 

“Would you quit staring? I’m just a bit run down.” Harry grumbled, curling up tightly under the warm fabric.

 

“I don’t know, Haz. Should we see a doctor?” Louis pushed off the wall and moved to sit down on the sofa, feeling Harry’s searing forehead with the back of his hand.

 

“If I’m not better in a few of days, yes, we can go to the ruddy doctor.” Harry poked out his tongue, his seemingly high spirits inspiring some comfort in Louis.

 

“Alright, deal. Call me if you need me, I’ll see you at six. I love you.”

 

Louis kissed the tips of his fingers and placed them on Harry’s lips, eyes filled with concern. He was fighting a mental battle with himself; go to work or call off sick to look after Harry? Pregnant people got sick all the time and this did seem like a pretty routine flu but what if something happened? He was stalling, he didn’t want to leave and Harry knew it.

 

Harry rolled his eyes.

 

“Go now, Lou.” His lips moved against Louis’s lingering fingers.

 

“Fine, fine. Seriously though, Harry, anything happens _at all,_ you call me immediately. Got it?”

 

“Yes, now leave! I want to watch TV in peace.” He winked at Louis, knowing humour would ease his worries somewhat.

 

Louis put his hand over his heart in mock offence. “Harry Styles, I never knew you were such a tosser!” Harry laughed and gave Louis the finger. “Okay, I’m going to go now, see you tonight, love.” Louis stood up from the couch, grinned down at Harry and then turned away, walking from the room.

 

“Love you!” Harry called after him, watching his sexy butt.

The door slammed, immediately prompting a satisfying yet painful coughing fit he had been holding off. Harry sighed in relief and leaned back into the couch, muscles aching.

 

_Mulan time._

His hand stretched out to the coffee table as he reached for the remote and turned on the DVD player, smiling weakly as the calligraphy-style menu lit up the screen.

 

*

 

“I’m home, Haz!” Louis called, closing the door quietly behind him.

 

He frowned at the ensuing silence that met his greeting, walking into the kitchen and dumping his keys on the counter.

 

“Haz?”

 

“Mmm, hey Lou.” Harry mumbled sleepily from the couch, stirring.

 

“Oh shit, did I wake you, love?”

 

“Yeah, but s’okay.” Harry yawned widely, stretching his arms up high and pulling himself into a sitting position. He threaded his hands into his curls and gripped his head tightly, an angry pulse beneath his fingers. “Argh, my head is pounding. Could you grab some Panadol please, bub?”

 

“Yeah, of course. Still not well, hey?”

 

“Yeah, I’ve been better.” Harry groaned, collapsing back onto the couch. “Fluminati confirmed.”

 

Louis handed Harry the tablets. “Even ruddy sickness can’t take away your bollox sense of humour.”

 

Harry wheezed a laugh and then dry swallowed the pills. “Shut up you prick, you know I’m hilarious.”

 

“What ever helps you sleep at night. How’s the bub? Anything more movement?”

 

“Not yet. Is it normal that they haven’t moved for five days?”

 

“Well they didn’t move _at_ _all_ before Monday so I’d say it’s okay.”

 

“Yeah, I guess. Now, I’m afraid I didn’t have the energy to make tea today, so how about we get takeout from that Italian place? And before you ask, yes, I ate regularly and drank lots of water.”

 

“Take-out sounds perfect, love.” He shrugged off his coat and lay it on top of the couch. “Quick question before we order, how many times did you watch Mulan, today?” Louis raised an eyebrow as he smirked down at Harry.

 

Trying to hide his sheepish smile, Harry looked down at his hands, picking his nails.

 

“Three.” He mumbled.

 

“Sorry, what? Didn’t catch that?”

 

“Three, God damn it! And I have no regrets!”

 

“I knew it would be three!” Louis cried, fist pumping the air. “I texted Niall this morning saying you were sick and he bet you would watch it twice. I’ll have you know I’ve just won five pounds.”

 

“Well woopty doo. You’re a champion.” Harry drawled, sarcastically. “Would you like a medal for making fun of me, or would a kiss satisfy your ego?”

 

“I s’pose a kiss would do for now.” Louis conceded with a grin.

 

“Well get down here then. I’m not getting up.”

 

Louis knelt over Harry on the couch, putting his hands on either side of his curly head and leaning down until their lips were just touching.

 

“I’ll go down on you anytime.”

 

Harry couldn’t help but laugh before grabbing Louis’s work shirt and pulling his lips down to meet his own, all thoughts of his headache pushed aside as sunshine spread through his body.

 

 

 

,,,,


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****WARNING – MISCARRIAGE IN THIS CHAPTER. I understand this is an incredibly sensitive topic for many viewers so it’s up to you if you want to read this chapter. The story will continue after this and I will summarise the events of this section at the start of the next chapter, so any readers who stopped reading can continue if they please. I’m so sorry if this decision makes any readers uncomfortable but it’s a choice I believe is important to this story and the development of the characters. Thank you all for being so amazing – your support means the world. Xx****

 

 

"Come here and give me a kiss before you leave." Harry beckoned Louis over to the couch, puckering his lips expectantly. 

As Louis leant down to oblige the request, Harry quickly stopped him half way and turned his own head to the side, coughing violently into his feather pillow. Louis hated seeing him like this – he didn't often get sick and rarely let on any physical discomfort in front of Louis. 

"Ugh, sorry, how disgusting. Better not kiss me, boo. I'll just blow you one instead."

Louis couldn't help but raise an eyebrow as a smirk pulled at his mouth. 

"Oh, you know I mean a kiss, you sick minded individual." Harry laughed, weakly. 

"Now, c'mon. It's pretty clear you're the sick one here, Haz." He gestured to the mountain of tissues on the coffee table. "I mean, ew."

"Stop teasing me, I can't help it. I'm carrying your baby, remember? You should be nicer to me." Harry pouted in exaggerated offence. 

"Fair call. I'm sorry, Hazzy poo. I love you and our bub very much."

"I know you do." Harry patted his stomach and smiled up at Louis, missing him already. 

"Alright, I have to run, but call me at lunch so I know you're doing okay."

"Yeah, yeah. Speak then. Bye, Lou!" He blew a kiss which Louis caught and then returned, before grabbing his keys and heading out the door. 

 

*

 

Harry's stomach twisted as the toast he'd managed to eat for breakfast that morning splattered the shining toilet bowl. The nausea and cramping he'd been attempting to keep at bay with a combination of Maxilon and Panadol was proving too strong; the contractions of his stomach bringing a mixture of food and stomach acid scorching up through his throat. 

_Being sick sucks._

Before long, the putrid liquid quickly ran dry and he was left gagging and spluttering as he rode out the remaining waves of nausea. Perhaps the only benefit of regular and extreme morning sickness was the inherent desensitization to vomiting. 

 _"Lucky me._ " Harry thought, sarcastically.

He flushed the foul contents of the toilet away and quickly brushed his teeth, groaning as his stomach continued to twist aggressively. Spitting out the minty foam, he quickly rinsed his mouth before retreating back to his nook of the couch. 

Harry tried his best to ignore the wrenching of his gut, curling his legs up to his chest and training his watering eyes on Mushu the dragon. As he placed dishonour on Mulan, her family and her cow, Harry couldn't hold back a moan of agony. The stabbing cramps were cripplingly painful and he couldn't help but wonder if he was severely constipated. Deciding he may as well try to achieve some bowel movement, he slowly shuffled, bent at the hips, back to the bathroom. 

"Ah my old friend." He muttered as he yanked down his black briefs and sat on the toilet. 

_Yep, still don't need to go._

Nonetheless, he attempted to take a dump but the pressure in his stomach was too much to push through. Feeling defeated but not knowing what else he could do, he pulled his briefs back up, perplexed when he discovered they felt cool and wet. 

_Was the floor wet when they were around my ankles?_

It didn't seem to be.

He turned to flush the toilet and as his eyes met the bowl, blazing terror instantly seized his chest and tore at his heart. 

Blood. 

The water was stained scarlet as swirls of blood floated weightlessly in the otherwise clear liquid. 

Beyond panicked, Harry shoved his hand roughly down his briefs to feel a warm slickness seeping from his anus. 

His wide eyes seem to be pulsating with the rapid thumping of his pulse as he stared at the blood coating his hand, frozen. Adrenalin rushed up through his body, tingling every joint and tensing every muscle. He knew what was happening but he couldn't comprehend it. 

Blood. 

Cramps. 

The continuing stabbing abdominal pain was unbearable but he somehow pushed it aside as he stumbled from the room, his bloody hand leaving red stains on the walls he used to support himself. He navigated his way to his phone and punched in the number, not registering the smears he left on his screen. 

"Hey, Haz! What's up? I was just about to call you."

"Louis." His voice was barely above a whisper. He didn't even know how he was speaking. How he was living. 

"Harry? Are you okay?"

"There's blood." His voice cracked, and he blinked dully at the sound. "I'm bleeding. Louis, I'm losing them and I don't know what to do." The reality of the situation was catching up to him, his dawning horror drawing him out of his stunned state. 

"What do you mean, Harry? Are you bleeding in your pants? Be clear with me so I can help you, baby." Louis spoke quickly but with assertion.

"From my bum, Lou. I'm bleeding from my bum. I'm having a miscarriage. I know it. I've been having cramps but I thought it was part of the nausea I was getting from the flu." His breathing was picking up and it was difficult to contain the tears building behind his eyes and lumping in his throat. "Louis, what do I do? I don't think I can drive like this. I want to speak to you but I have to call someone. I don't want to lose our..." He paused, almost incapable of finishing the thought, "our baby."

"Harry, baby, I need you to calm down. You need to breathe for me, understand? I'm leaving work right now and I'll be there as soon as I can but you've got to hang up and call the ambulance, immediately. Do your deep breaths Haz, I know you're both going to be okay. You and our baby. You're fighters. I love you but you have to hang up now, okay, Haz?"

"Lou, it hurts so bad." Harry whimpered, sliding down the wall and hunching over himself. 

"I know, Hazzy. That's why you have to call 999, right now. They'll help you."

"Hurry, Lou." Harry whispered, hanging up the phone and calling the emergency number. He forced himself to breathe despite the panic and agony buzzing in every particle of his being; flushing him in heat and weakening his tense muscles. 

The raw hurt and terror pounding through him was sending his mind into a frenzy, an inescapable cycle of emotional torment, self-pity, disbelief and unbearable bodily torture. He was incapacitated by the mere notion that this was actually happening to him.

"Police, fire or ambulance."

"Ambulance." Harry grunted, clenching his eyes shut as his insides were continually stabbed with blinding pain.

"What is your emergency?"

"I'm having a miscarriage."

"What is your location? Are you calling from a landline, mobile or public phone?"

"Mobile. I'm in my house – number 5 Eldur Street, Doncaster. Please hurry, there's blood and I don't know how much longer I can take this."

"Please stay on the phone while we dispatch an ambulance to your location. Our paramedics will arrive in the next fifteen minutes. Remain calm. On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate the pain you are experiencing?"

"Nine and a half." Harry bit his lip and whimpered quietly, curling in on himself as tightly as he could manage. Blood was seeping out of his briefs and smearing on the floor beneath him. 

He couldn't look.

"Okay, hold on, buddy. Our people will be there as soon as they can. Is someone with you?"

"My boyfriend's on his..." He was unable to continue, involuntarily crying out as a particularly painful stab tore at his insides. "Please! Please, help me. I can't do this anymore." He could barely breathe, the sheer agony had him holding his breath, not wanting to put the lightest of pressures on his stomach. 

"It's going to be okay, sir. We're coming to help you. Try to keep breathing as normally as possible. I want to hear you take a deep breath for me."

Face wet with tears, he forced himself to draw in as much air as he could before pushing it shuddering back out again. Harry tried to keep the air moving - in, out -  but the strangling cries possessing him prevented his attempts. 

"I-I can't do this. I j-just want L-louis. I c-can't ca-alm down without him." He choked out, gasping for breath.

"Hang in there, sir. Everything's going to be okay but you have to keep breathing. Just try-"

All thoughts of the woman on the phone were lost as Harry's attention instantly snapped to the entrance, hearing the front door slam.

"LOUIS!" He screamed, a surge of hope rushing through his chest.

Louis sprinted into the kitchen and immediately locked eyes with Harry, his heart tightening to see him curled against the wall, sobbing violently. His breathing was erratic, punctured with choking cries, and his beautiful face was anguished and ashen. A small pool of blood sat slickly beneath him and streaks of scarlet mingled with the tears on his face. Louis sat down beside Harry and pulled his shuddering body into him as tightly as possible, stroking his hair.

"Harry, baby,  _breathe_." 

Harry shook his head wildly, brokenly sobbing as he attempted to take in air. 

"I need you to do this. Look at me, Harry." He grabbed Harry's face in his hands, forcing him to still. "Breathe with me. In-two-three. Out-two-three. In-two-three. Out-two-three."

Louis kept Harry's head still in his hands, watching in distress as Harry desperately tried to keep pace with Louis. The choking sounds became less frequent and his breaths deeper; a rapid but at least regular pant replacing the near suffocation. 

"It-it hurts so much, Lou. I can't take the pain of it."

Louis moved Harry's head to his shoulder as he resumed his stroking of his hair, suppressing the tears aching behind his eyes.

"I know, Haz. I know."

 

*

 

The doctor put his hand on Louis's shoulder. 

"I'm so sorry, your baby didn't survive. We did everything we could."

He felt the world shift and his heart shatter, right then, right there.

No words could describe the ache.

Pain took over the senses. 

He didn't know how to cope.

Overcome.

 

*

 

"Push, baby, you can do this."

Harry looked up at him, tears rolling down his pallid cheeks. 

_How those droplets dare to fall from an angel's eyes._

"It hurts, Louis. I don't want it to go. I want them to stay with me."

Louis's face crumpled as his eyes met Harry's. 

They held nothing but aguish.

Red rimmed and sparkling jade but empty of colour.

Empty. 

He gripped Harry's hand tighter and told him to push again, wishing he didn't have to.

 

*

 

His eyes were always leaking, the throbbing in his throat ever-present. 

His baby was gone and so was he.

He held his empty stomach, always hoping. 

He only talked to Louis.

He didn't want to feel anymore.

He didn't want to be anymore.

He didn't know how to be Harry. 

All he knew was loss.

 

*

 

Louis slammed the bathroom door shut and sunk to the floor, sobbing violently into the crook of his elbow as it rested on his bent knee. 

He was trying to be strong for Harry. He tried not to cry. He forced himself to smile. 

He wore nice clothes to the hospital and he dealt with all the doctors. 

He made sure Harry ate.

He had held what there was of their little girl when Harry couldn't.

He talked to their parents when Harry couldn't.

He rang Niall and Bella. 

He ate lunch with them when they came to visit and even made sure he smiled for them. 

He smiled for them all. 

But, today, he couldn't hold on any longer.

He needed to break again. 

He needed to experience the shattering grasp of reality. 

The grief was everything and anything else was just pretend. 

He couldn't see an exit. 

There was no way out.

All that mattered was lost. 

His Harry was absent to life.

Gone were times of sickness; now it was disorientation.

It was impossible to see the way back or forward. 

He dragged himself off of the floor, sniffed loudly, blew his nose and rinsed his face. He practised smiling in the mirror. If he smiled just right, you couldn't tell he'd been crying. 

He opened the door and stepped back out, lips curving, as rehearsed. 

Harry was shuddering beneath the sheets of his cot in the far corner of the room, his whimpers reaching through Louis's chest. 

His smile wavered.

He closed his eyes.

He took a breath.

He moved over to the only thing he knew he had left and pulled him close. His body trembled against his own.

A warmth he didn't know he could still feel spilled into his aching chest. 

Through the tears, came a murmur. 

"I love you, Louis."

Then, his smile was real.

 

```

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late miscarriage can be caused by any infection that can make you unwell (e.g. flu). It's reasonably uncommon but it does happen. Thank you for reading this story so far (even if you didn't read this particular chapter) - it really does mean so much to me. I'll update again soon. Xx


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****Hmmm. Last chapter was very hard to write. I hope it was in no way insensitive to the reality of miscarriage, that is the last thing I would wish. I’m so sorry if I made some of you feel sad or uncomfortable – that was not my intention – but I hope you can forgive me and continue to read. Your support means the world. If you ever need to talk, leave a comment and I will definitely reply. Much love. Xx****

Tragedy is unforgettable.  The marks it leaves are permanent and fixed.

There is no instant, quick-fix stain remover that leaves you as clean and innocent as a newborn puppy; a magical cure to all your heartache.

 

Time and love are the only agents which have any effect on it. The blemish is not removed, it simply fades with every second that ticks by, and every moment that lifts the heart. Just the same as any memory: once-clear images and striking pain blur and distort, the vibrancy of it all diminishing.

 

Eventually, the best day of your life becomes a sensation attached to a handful of pictures. An inexplicable smile and the memory of laughter.

 

 The worst: a weight that pulls on your joy, dragging the warmth it brings deep below the earth’s surface where it cannot reach your heart. The day’s images may become sparse, but they will remain knife-like as they stab your mind and seize every fibre of your being upon recollection.

 

Impossible to forget, but possible to bear.

 

The scars are not simply healed; life does not just go on. The damaged tissue becomes harder, tougher and less flexible. There is an undeniable weakness now installed on its victim. Without substantial blood flow to the scar, it will become brittle and vulnerable to re-injury. It is not to be ignored but rather, accepted and felt, understood as permanent, and continually supplied with agents to heal: time and love.

 

 

*

 

“Tea?”

 

Harry nodded before turning back to the blank TV screen.

 

“Should we watch Mulan?” Louis suggested, a faux optimism thick in each syllable.

 

“I don’t really feel like it.” Harry sounded so small. Dwarfed in the inescapable reality of the present.

 

“Okay.” Louis’s voice cracked.

 

He froze, clenching the teabag in his hand as he felt his throat ache, uncaring.

 

_You can’t lose it. Not now._

He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, filling his screaming chest with oxygen before letting the air escape after a few moments. The burning sensation in the bridge of his nose faded slowly as he blinked his eyes rapidly and stared up at the ceiling. Once satisfied he was in control of himself, he resumed his previous movements.  

 

“Niall and Liam are coming over tonight.” His voice sounded strong, forced to betray every internal instinct of overwhelming grief suffocating him.

 

Harry hummed in acknowledgement but continued to silently watch the blank television.

 

Louis poured boiling water into the porcelain mug before him.

 

“Bella said she might be a bit late. She’s got assessment due soon.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Louis walked over to the couch and put the mug down on the coffee table, crouching in front of Harry.

 

“You alright, Haz?”

 

Harry shrugged, blasé, but his eyes played Judas to his burning torment.

 

“M’fine.”

 

“You don’t want to talk?”

 

“Nothing to talk about. What’s done is done, Louis.” He leaned around Louis, avoiding his gaze, and picked up the tea. “I’m coping.” He sipped his tea and looked back to the television.

 

Louis could feel the sting in his nose and the pounding in his throat returning. Tears clung to his eyes and he clenched his jaw to prevent his lips from trembling.

 

“I’m just going to the loo,” he choked, before moving swiftly to the bathroom and hurriedly closing the door.

 

He clamped a hand firmly around his mouth, trying to physically repress the sobs that jolted his body. He wanted to scream. He could think of nothing but his lost baby and his lost Harry. He couldn’t take it anymore.

 

Louis’s eyes remained tightly closed as he sunk to the floor, his head on his knees and hands fisting his hair. He was unconscious to himself as thoughts of what-might-have-been tore through his mind. He could barely breathe, violent cries escaping him and echoing chaotically throughout the tiled bathroom.

 

He felt himself being pulled into Harry’s chest and he released his hands from his hair, arms falling limply to his sides in surrender. Harry tightened his hold around Louis’s shoulders, allowing him to break apart in his arms.

 

“I want her back, Harry,” Louis sobbed. “I want you both back.”

 

Harry stayed silent, not trusting his own voice. He kissed the top of Louis’s head.

 

“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t.”

 

“But you will,” Harry whispered, lifting Louis’s chin and kissing him gently.

 

 

*

 

 

“I think they’re here.” Louis stopped tossing the salad and moved to the front door. He could hear footsteps shuffling outside and opened the door to reveal his boys.

 

“Hey, mate.” Niall crossed the threshold and embraced Louis tightly.

 

“How are you holding up?” Liam asked, hugging Louis also.

 

“I’m not great,” Louis admitted, not meeting their sympathetic eyes. “Come in, guys.”

 

They walked into the kitchen and Liam and Niall approached Harry the same as they had Louis. He could hear Niall asking Harry what they were having for dinner and was relieved they weren’t dwelling on sensitive topics.

 

Just after they set the table, a knocking on the door announced Bella’s arrival, drawing Harry away to let her inside. As he hugged her, she couldn’t help but notice how he sagged into her, weighted with masked anguish.

 

“Harry, look at me.”

 

He pulled away and she grabbed his face in her hands.

 

“You did everything you could. You’ll get another chance and you _will_ be happy again.”

 

Harry’s eyes became glossy and his lip trembled.

 

“I love you, Harry.” Bella let her hands fall, pulling him into her, as he cried softly.

 

“I love you too, Bell,” Harry murmured, stroking her cropped, silky hair.

 

Bella released Harry and reached up to wipe away the tears on his face.

 

“You’re my family Harry, if not by blood. I’m here for you.”

 

Harry nodded, a bubble of warmth popping in his chest.

 

“Now, let’s get some dinner, yeah?” She grabbed his hand and dragged him into the kitchen, Harry smiling softly at the back of her head.

 

 

```


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****I can’t even thank you all enough for continuing to read my story. You’re such patient and beautiful readers; believe me when I say you make me feel incredibly rosy. I am beyond sorry that I always take AGES to update. No excuses, I’m just finding time to enjoy my life and balance work with fun. However, I will try my very best to update more frequently, although the story doesn’t have much left! I'll just warn you - this is a bit of a dark chapter some of you may possibly find tough to read. I hope you're all okay. Xx****

 

“Harry, babe, want to watch Mulan?”

 

Louis had asked this question so often since they came back from the hospital, always receiving a wilted ‘not today’ in response. Those simple words sliced at his heart, day in day out, slowly butchering the life-source that was supposed to keep him going. Sometimes, it’s the insignificant things that are felt most deeply.

 

“Not today.” Harry didn’t even look up from his plate of pasta, prodding the rigatoni gently with his fork.

 

“Okay.”

 

Louis’s mind was screaming, internal panic searing every nerve as his thoughts whirled and he struggled to repress them; he felt so incredibly helpless facing it all, knowing there was nothing he could do or say that could bring back the life that was ripped from Harry.

 

She was gone.

 

Louis kept his eyes dull and his expression neutral as the claustrophobic anxiety jailed any and all warmth inside him, freezing him in a state of crushing grief and bombarding him with fear of adding to Harry’s torture.

 

As always, he soon gathered himself and continued on, running errands and making sure Harry’s day-to-day was as comfortable as possible.

 

 

*

 

 

Harry hadn’t meant to walk there. He’d honestly forgotten that the aisle existed, intending to use its towering shelves as a passage to the deodorants and soap. He had looked up from the list on his phone, after confirming Louis’s preferred brand was _Nivea,_ when he saw it all there, laid out before him like graves in a cemetery. Rows upon rows of nappies, wipes, sippy cups, and tiny cutlery expanded below neatly hung baby onesies and embroidered blankets, drawing Harry’s gaze and dousing him in icy torment. Almost instantaneously, his eyes began to prickle and his throat throbbed painfully. He walked slowly up to a blanket and reached out to touch it, his fingers grazing the fabric before he retracted them sharply. Giggling babies and smiley mothers branded his vision from glossy plastic wrappings, forcing his eyes tight shut as he backed into the shelf behind him. Harry held a hand to his face as his breath hitched and he felt tears wet his skin.

 

He had to get out.

 

Drawing in a deep breath he hastily wiped his face, dumped his basket on the laminate tiles, and walked briskly from the store. He kept his head down as he passed the passive strangers inhabiting the sidewalk, making it to a deserted back-corner of the car park before crumbling onto the cement. He hugged himself tightly as he broke down, sobbing until he was gasping for breath. He looked down at his stomach and wanted to scream.

 

How could she not be there? Why did she leave him? Did she know he hadn’t wanted her at the start and thought she wasn’t loved?

 

Self-hatred blazed in Harry’s chest as he drew himself to his feet and punched his empty stomach with as much force as he could muster, curling over like a child reaching for their toes as pain tore through him and he spluttered for air. He choked in a breath and punched himself again, trying his utmost to deliver a harder blow. He fell to his knees, hunched over as he fought the agony compressing his lungs. Looking down at the cement, he wanted nothing more than to hurt himself.

 

He hadn’t wanted her and she knew it.

 

Overcome, Harry drew his head back before smashing it as hard as he could manage into the cement. The adrenalin coursing through him masked the pain but failed to stop the blurring haze that now cloaked everything in sight. Unable to care, he drew his head back before cracking it against the cement with everything he had once more.

 

 

 

*

 

Louis called Harry six times before forcing himself to calm down, assuring his anxiety that he was being silly, and making a nice warm tea to drink while he waited.

 

His tea was untouched.

 

*

 

“Harry? Thank, God. I’ve called you a dozen times, where have you been?”

 

“Louis.” His voice sounded weak over the phone. There was a long pause. “I thin I’ve urt m’head.” He was definitely slurring.

 

“Harry, where are you? Have you been drinking?”

 

“S’market.” He took a deep breath, momentarily filling Louis’s ear with static on the exhale. “Hit m’head n some’in.”

 

“Okay I’m going to drive down there. Are you in the store? Is someone there with you?”

 

“N a parkin’ space with lines. No one ‘ere. Wen to th’back… Alone.”

 

“Okay, I’m coming right now. Stay there, Haz.”

 

 

*

 

“HARRY!”

 

Louis sprinted to the crumpled form in the corner, his heart racing as he took in the smears of blood on the concrete. The man was facing away from him, curled on the concrete like a dead spider, but the tumble of curls strewn across the floor was unmistakable. 

 

Louis collapsed next to Harry, wrenching his limp body into his lap and pushing his tangled hair away from his face. The skin on his forehead was split, a large gash spreading across the purpling, bloody space. Harry’s eyes were open but unfocused, lolling about the place as if independent of his mind. Louis held his hand to his mouth, trying to stifle the sobs threatening his breathing.

 

_Not now._

He removed his hand and quickly felt Harry’s pulse, which was steady.

 

Stroking Harry’s cheek, he quickly retrieved his phone and dialled 999, instructing the operator of their location in a detached voice.

 

 

*

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, you are all wonderful!


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